The Secret Affliction
by Monochrome Factor
Summary: Remus has just begun to associate with his own kind. This August moon Remus finds out that it is the werewolf mating season. He is called by the scent of his mate. Moony breaks free of the werewolf transformation hostel and tracks down his mate with two main agendas - to mark and to mate. SLASH HarryXRemus. Starts the beginning of Prisoner of Azkaban.
1. Chapter 1

Warnings: This fan fiction is definitely rated M for a reason. Adults only no kiddies. This is also SLASH I have no idea why someone wouldn't read the summary but just in case you haven't – its gay. So don't like don't read.

Authors note: Finally! Got this first chapter done and it feels great! Please Please review!

Chapter One

Moon Flower

The industrial soot peppered the snow covered streets where a lone man walked silently through the dying light. He was a tall man and good looking too, besides the scars that were soft pink threads that decorated his entire body. Unexpectedly, the scars were probably the last thing muggles passing him in the streets would note. Firstly, they would note this man was probably the most dirtiest, shabbiest excuse of a man they had ever seen and come to some conclusion that he was homeless. It was his ripped, patched and shoddily mended clothes that caused most people to come to that conclusion and avoid him. But as they drew nearer to him they were more likely to note that his big eyes were an abnormal shade of bright yellow that was really quite unnerving, that his large canines were visible when he smiled and gave people the distinct impression that he was about to go for their throats. Perhaps to most wholly remarkable thing about this man trudging down the dirty streets of Cokeworth was that if you spotted him in the light of the full moon – you mightn't recognise him at all. For you see, this man was a werewolf.

Remus shivered as he walked through the slush. It was partly because of the cold but it was also partly because the full moon was rising tonight. He had a feeling that tonight would somehow be different. He sensed the hint of some new fragrance on the air but he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was. It was like a particularly fragrant flower was about to open up its petals to the moonlight. He had never felt this way before and any new development, any instincts or feelings from the werewolf within were unwelcome. It scared him.

The small dingy houses gave way to industrial warehouses and he sighed knowing he was almost at his destination. The wire fence around the factory was lined with silver barbed wire, but you wouldn't know that unless you yourself couldn't touch it, though there hadn't been an outbreak since the 70s. "Remus, gonna be a rowdy one tonight I'm afraid," the guard laughed as he greeted him.

Remus quirked an inquisitive brow.

"Can't you feel it? I feel sumthin' different. Bein' that time o' year and all I s'pose it's not surprising," he said conversationally. Remus frowned, walking closer to the booth in which the guard sat to issue the comings and goings of the 'factory workers'.

"Time of year?"

"Yeah," he looked strangely at Remus, "you know its flower season. The birds and the bees and what not."

Today he was not making a lick of sense. "Have you gone mad, Barry? Its summer."

Barry rolled his eyes at Remus. "No, No, you twat. It's the _season. _For werewolves," he explained.

Remus thought about this for a moment. He had never heard of such a season but then again he had only recently began to consort with his "own kind." He had never felt any different last August. Nor the time before. Now that Remus had cottoned on, the guard smiled a mostly toothless smile and continued. "So d'you think you'll be lucky this summer?"

Remus smiled, "Oh no, my friend. I have always been a lone wolf." They laughed and eventually he was able to slip past the gate and into the small snowy yard before the bottle factory. The factory still did produce bottles but its main purpose was to provide a kind of werewolf lock down during full moons. Remus took the fire exit on the left past the small administration office and down the lift to the basement. The basement unlike the factory above had a small sitting room complete with squishy arm chairs, a cafe, sign in sheet and notice board. Remus signed in with his name and WID number. He groaned inwardly at having to own a Werewolf Identification Number. The whole process of having to register with the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures was humiliating and it was probably the reason why this bottle factory in Cokeworth was completely owned and ran by werewolves.

He ordered the extra large, extra rare venison with chips and vegetables hoping that it would give him enough energy to ease the transformation and not leave him as exhausted and malnourished as previous months have left him. He had to be well rested for Hogwarts. "Expecting you'll need the energy, my friend?" asked Barry sitting across from him.

"I'm starting a new job. I can't be exhausted for the beginning of term," he said and hoped that it would extinguish any thoughts of him on the prowl for a girlfriend. He didn't have time for a girlfriend at Hogwarts and, in any case, it was a very rare occasion indeed that any woman interested him. He didn't want any advances … however despite himself he found the idea of a _season _interesting.

"So... this _season.. _Shouldn't the Beast Liaison Officers be crawling in this place?"

"Don't be silly Remus, there hasn't been a break out since 76. Plus it isn't the werewolves coming to transformation hostels that they gotta worry about. It's the loose ones they gotta keep their eye on. People who use rusty loose chains and makeshift cells that just break and then before they know it they're out down the street killing their neighbours, or the rogue werewolves who don't give a shit where they change and plan to kill and turn as many as they can. Like that Fenrir Greyback fella. Them's the one that keep their attention."

He wasn't sure if Barry was exaggerating. Surely if a werewolf was loose and killing people it would at least make Page 2 of the _Daily Prophet. _Barry saw him deliberating.

"It doesn't happen much though. There's only one or two that break out per month maybe. It's mostly the rogues and nomads that stuff it all up for the rest of us. You know, homeless sods who don't bloody realise that they needa lock 'em selves up and loose track of the full moon! I mean who could forget that once a month you turn into a hulking beast, seriously?"

Remus nodded in agreement, a little bitterly, it was indeed hard to forget. In fact, that reminder hung over him as constant reminder of how he must live. There probably were successful werewolves out there that managed to keep a job and girlfriends and live a relatively normal life. He just couldn't. He had hurt someone before and he just couldn't bring himself to get close to any significant other.

"Are there more killings during this season?"

"Not usually. There's more turnings than anything. Lonely werewolves just wanting company or werewolves havin' found there mate and marking them for themselves," said Barry, ever casual.

Remus' eyes widened, "marking? You mean they're able to resist killing their mates after tasting their blood?"

"Of course, mate! They just do it to make sure other werewolves don't come sniffing 'round their mates and they got a big excuse of a scar to prove that they're taken." He indicated a large area in the side of his neck and shoulder where markings were usually made. He thought then, "plus once they realise what they are... they come back to their mates don't they... Figure out what they are. How to deal with it."

"I don't think so. I would be too angry at whoever turned me into this," he said bitterly. Barry just smiled broadly like he knew something that Remus didn't.

Before he could ask there was a large crack and two other werewolves appeared. A couple, with their hair all mussed and looking incredibly pleased with themselves. A blonde female, mid thirties, her eyes were sunken and bluish-purple with sleep deprivation yet there was a curious radiance coming from behind her skin. She looked in adoration at her stocky partner. Curious.

What intrigued Remus more was the ravaged and still bleeding skin at the junction between her neck and shoulder. It was inflamed, red raw and shiny where the infection had got in and spread through her system.

"Newly mated," murmured Barry, inclining his head towards them.

"But – he's in human form! How – He did that in his human state?" Obviously Remus had a lot more to worry about if he ever mated. He couldn't have Moony just take over and bite on an innocent woman's neck! And further more, _how? _The puncture wounds were deep, clearly made by werewolf canines and not humans. Their teeth weren't retractable. Were they?

"Well, what do you expect? Him to let her go?" Barry knew it wasn't what Remus had meant, but it was too difficult to explain to him the magic of mating. How was he to tell Remus that he had remained in his human form but had used the power and magic of the wolf to mark and mate her? He had no idea. He had cut himself off from other werewolves and most probably from himself. He would find out soon enough anyway, he thought looking at the sweat beading on Lupin's forehead.

Barry had been looking at him strangely but before he had a chance to press him for answers his muscles cramped and spasmed. It was not a good sign. It meant he had a difficult transformation ahead of him. A fast one. The faster the transformation, the more he bruised and bled. He checked his watch. It was probably going to be his most difficult transformation yet being that it wasn't even 6 o'clock and he was having his first paroxysm of the night. He looked at Barry, who was staring at him as if he had suddenly grown a second head, but he thought he knew what Barry was thinking. His body was already starting to tremble again as the elevator chimed and a large group of bachelor werewolves walked in. His heart was starting to race and he could hear his blood gushing in his ears. The change was beginning.

"I think you'll see soon enough. I think it's your year, matey," Barry said, getting up and going over the young lady at the cafe. She looked over at him and began to look very alarmed. Remus doubted she had been in the job very long and an early transformation didn't seem to be particularly thrilling for her. He began to shake again, this time so hard that he fell out of his arm chair and onto the floor. It had hit him with unusual force and Moony was on the edge of his consciousness. His muscles were cramping and tightening so hard that he was unable to get up from the floor. He was trying to look around, no one seemed to concerned that he was on the floor. The bachelor werewolves were still geeing each other up and the werewolf couple had began to rut on their lounge chair. Why was no one coming to bind him? His muscles tightened and contracted, it started to get faster and faster. He began to shake again, a seizure gripped him hard and left his head and arms clattering on the floor. He could feel the his heart pumping adrenalin and growth hormone painfully fast. He could feel every hair standing on edge and growing. His chest, his legs and his arms were all growing fuzzy... or was it his vision failing him in the haze of his own pain? His head was on fire and it hurt where his temple kept thudding on the floor as he shook. He could hear someone scream as his ribs cracked, dislocated and expanded. His head ached a anew with the horrifying scream that he had heard and died abruptly into a low mewl.

His skin stretching was terribly uncomfortable but the worst change was over terribly quick and he knew it would be more painful for him later. He barely got time to breathe before his clavicle and scapula moved, ripping its way underneath his skin and re-attached, making him far more top heavy. His muscles were starting to bulk and attach differently and made him ravenous despite the kilo of steak he had just eaten. This was going to be the most difficult recovery by far. It was then that he finally thought there must be some break between the bone-cracking transformation, usually it took hours but it could have only been half an hour at most, surely. The screaming had stopped again thankfully, it was hurting his ears terribly... or was that his aural glands beginning to reattach differently too? He looked up and sighed, Barry was still talking to the lady behind the cafe animately, as if he was telling her a good story. He could feel himself bruising and trying to turn over on his stomach was an impossibility because of it. His arms were beginning to lengthen and he knew this would take the last of the energy from what he had just eaten. Bone growing was always painful, but this was much more painful than Skele-Grow, this was the bone pushing the flesh out of the way and stretching his skin as it went. His nails were also growing thicker and sharper and he wished that Barry would stop making conversation and move him to a holding cell already. He could hear people beginning to crowd around him as he was having a rest from the change. He could feel hands on him and they began to pull. He could hear himself beg them to stop but he was not entirely sure it was of his own accord... could Moony be controlling his body already? He probed but the barrier between them was up, as if he was keeping something from him. He was screaming as he was being dragged across the hard concrete floor. It sounded like the ones before, he realised. His head was thumping more than ever and he could feel the insides of his head burning and then the delicious smell he could smell before was more clearer than ever. He could smell it was to the east and smelt of muggle suburbia. But before he had the chance to sniff deeper and really bring the scent into his nostrils for further analysis his jaw dislocated, which muffled his scream, it was growing painfully and he felt like his teeth and jaw were going to break through his skin. His jaw cracked and thinned out, his cartilage cracked and flattened his nose completely. His teeth ripped from their original places and left bloody mushy gums to be replaced with new, sharper counterparts. Lethal and dripping with his horrible infectious secret. He spat blood from his snout. His head began to settle. As his ears and nose changed even further Remus became even more aware of that mouth-watering smell that was making his loins quicken. He was even aware of the other less important smells in the room. A fellow werewolf and a human female ripe at child bearing age. He could smell her on heat. The blood was intoxicating, but it didn't call to him as much as the other smell. The gateway broke free in his mind and Moony took control of his body, shoving Remus into a kind of semi-conscious state. Semi aware. He was more aware than ever before. Usually he had no recollection of what happened in his werewolf state and had little memory of it. His relationship with his werewolf self was usually in the interim, close to his change or in a particularly vulnerable emotional state where he could feel another within his mind. A more lonely, neglected and on edge existence. _Hungry. _Always _hungry. _Whether it was for flesh and the power drawn from slaughter or for company or sex.

It was this delicious smell on the air that was Moony's first priority this moon. It was not prey, to Remus' intense relief, but his _mate. _He didn't want a mate but what was going to happen now was beyond his control and he supposed that he would have to let things unfold seeing as he wasn't in control of his body. He was confused as his emotions began to boil in front of him. He wanted it. He was filled with a fierce joy and longing. He had suddenly this innate knowledge that this was finally his season! His mate had finally come of age. He had to go and find him. He needed him. He needed his love.

_He? _thought Remus. _What? Don't you think I should have been told about this? This _season _I know nothing about? This boy. I didn't even know I was gay. That I could have a … mate. _

Remus sensed that finding the boy had top priority over answering his questions. Not that he would answer if that wasn't the case, he felt quite angry at himself for never trying to get in touch with himself as a werewolf. He could feel his body down to the tips of his fingers without having any control over them. It was quite strange. He got up. He was going to ask where he was going but he already knew the answer to that. He was only thinking of the boy. He could smell him clearer than before, before was just a tiny taste of him, he could smell muggles and proper muggle society. He could smell Hogwarts on the boy too. This was bad. The year he got a job at Hogwarts was the year he was called to "mate" with one of its students! He had to put an end to this. Moony wouldn't have that.

_He's a student! How old is he? Don't werewolves have some sort of moral – conception of propriety when it comes to mating?_

_He's of age. He's come of age._

_Need we mate him? Can we not just mark him? _

Remus thought about it. The smell. Marking him would work to ward off other werewolves but would Moony ever be able to control himself? And he had no control over his body. And the reason he was conscious was because Moony wanted him to watch as he did it. Marked and mated a _boy_.

Harry was sitting on a low stone wall on Magnolia crescent when it happened. He was thinking about what he was going to do next. He had just violated the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry. He had no where to go and he was sitting in the darkness on muggle street. The back of his neck prickled, stopping him in his search for his invisibility cloak. He had begun to feel very funny. Something was coming for him. He looked up and down Magnolia crescent but couldn't see anything but darkness. There wasn't even a single light coming from the square muggle houses. He sat down on the wall and tried to calm him self. It was simply the fact that he was alone and panicked... but then he began to hear a strange sound. A puffing noise. His hand was on his wand in an instant. "Lumos," Harry whispered, holding the wand high over his head. He could see a dark shape coming towards him from further down the street. He watched for a moment trying to figure out what it was. It was coming towards him with alarming speed. A lot faster than anything natural could run. He took a step back and began to run in the opposite direction. It was definitely something supernatural. He didn't know whether he should have just put his invisibility cloak on but now he was already running and it was too late. He mentally kicked himself for not thinking of it earlier. He reached Magnolia crescent Reserve and was thinking of maybe scaling a tree or hiding from whatever was coming for him when something grabbed his leg and he tripped landing face first in the grass. He couldn't breathe for the dirt sliding underneath him. When he slid to a halt he stopped violently, his head hitting into the base of a willow tree and it made him feel really dizzy. Something had landed on him hard and he lifted his head in panic, spitting out dirt and simultaneously trying to drag himself futilely away. He looked around wildly but he couldn't see a thing – everything was happening so fast he couldn't tell whether it was mud clogging his eyes or the darkness or the fact that he lost his glasses.

A great clawed hand pushed his chest back to the ground and the air escaped his lungs in a wheeze, winded. He could feel hot air on his neck, sniffing, breathing him in. Harry gulped and tried to breathe, terrified, trying to think where his wand might have fallen but all thoughts were gone as he felt teeth sink into his neck and shoulder. He screamed. The sharp teeth ripped through his flesh with ease and he wouldn't dare struggle for the pain of it. He could feel his blood drip onto the side of his face and onto the ground below him and he started to feel faint. His heart was thudding like mad, he couldn't hear anything else and he couldn't see anything. The teeth released him and most of the weight of the attacker was removed, as if it was sitting back and watching him for a moment. He clutched his neck and felt the blood spurt out from beneath his fingers. His heart was beginning to beat faster and faster beneath his finger tips and he thought he was having a heart attack.

He was feeling really strange. Warm. Hyper alert. He could feel his attacker behind him. It was a werewolf. He could feel how close he was to him, feel his eyes watching his reactions and he could _feel_ both concern for him and a desperation to own him. Make him his. He shook his aching head. Was it the blow to the head? How could he be feeling these things? He was bewildered. It wanted to fuck him. It felt triumphant having tasted his blood and marked his body. It felt somehow that the bite had "owned" him, and marked him as part of his property but it wasn't enough.

He had no idea what to do. He couldn't see and he didn't know whether there was any reasoning with a werewolf. He had no precedent for the situation, but he knew the werewolf wouldn't let him escape. The wolf was on him again. He could feel its joy as it licked at his wound. Each stroke of its tongue hurt as it lapped the blood away, but as he did so he could feel the blood stop flowing. He could feel healing powers coming from the werewolf and he decided that perhaps they possessed a kind of untamed magic not unlike the magic that he had just worked on his aunt, random and triggered by emotion. He could feel the werewolf worrying about the blood loss and the way his thoughts were whirring. Was he delirious or was this information coming to him from some weird connection that came with a werewolf bite?

But there was no more time to ponder his line of though as he felt himself being turned over roughly. Within a heart beat his knees were pressed to his shoulders and he felt his back explode as the werewolf ripped his jeans and pants from waistband to crotch. He didn't have any time to process whether this was really happening before he felt the werewolf's cock at his entrance and pushed inside him to the hilt. No hesitation. Urgency. Satisfaction. He felt like he was going to explode. It was impossibly big and it nestled up inside him with unnatural ease. Any moment he would split in two – but he didn't. He squirmed as he felt it retreat, only to slam back in, sliding against an impossibly sensitive something within him. It made him scream without his own permission. He was trying to find something to hold onto, anything, anything as it slided against him again in again, right in that spot that made him feel so good. Scandalously so. He began gasping with pleasure as it started to throb and became more and more sensitive. He hadn't had time for him to even realise he was hard before the next blissful contact with that something inside him, the head of its wet cock sliding against it, made his head reel. He forget everything for one blissful moment. His head exploded. Ecstasy. He came and immediately felt wet and sticky. He clenched as the werewolf thrusted again and almost ripped him in two – and then if he already felt full to the brim he was completely full of come next. He felt it explode hotly inside of him and spill over. It dribbled down his backside and back. The werewolf collapsed on him. His knees still pinned to his chest. His legs still trembling with the aftermath of his orgasm. He wanted desperately to get out from underneath the werewolf but he was so tired. His limbs were dead. He fell asleep.


	2. The Three Bulls

Chapter Two

The Three Bulls

It was the smell that woke him and the spluttering and the choking and the vomiting. He looked over. He started up and in a moment everything came flooding back to him – the werewolf, the sex, his aunt – as he watched the man throwing up next to him. The daylight shone through the willow tree on the man, hunched over low throwing up blood. His pale body was patchy with black and purple – some bruises and some purple splotches where the man had bled into his skin. Internal bleeding. This man was terribly injured.

"Oh Merlin," he exclaimed and the man turned his head slightly, regarding him silently as he coughed up another bloody expulsion. Harry got to his feet and dived for his wand which was laying on the ground a few feet from him. The man muttered something that was garbled and choked and lost in the throw up, he lifted a hand and he looked over at Harry brandishing his wand... frightened.

"_Scourgify_"

The dirt from the man's body lifted off him, separated and returned to the ground. The blood was wiped from his face and hair in droplets that fell to the ground and Harry hoped that he had cleansed his airways some. The man coughed twice more and looked at him – seemingly bewildered.

"I thought you were going to try to kill me," the man whispered, blinking at him.

Harry was taken aback. The idea was repugnant.

"No – I – You see – I couldn't," he stuttered uselessly, encapsulated by this man's amber eyes. They were so soft and... mesmerising. And then his concentration broke abruptly as he realised the young man was naked. He hoped he wasn't blushing.

"I can't imagine why you wouldn't – I'm _so _sorry. I beg you. Let me explain – I'm a werewolf – I didn't have a choice -"

"Look, that's ok. I can hear your explanation later," he said hurriedly, "but right now we need to get out of here before a muggle sees us on their morning walk."

The man looked slightly ashamed for a moment, nodded and then reached out taking his arm.

The next moment he was lifted off his feet, spun round and squished at every angle. He felt like he was stuffed inside a revolving tube. His feet hit the ground and he stopped revolving.

He was in a cafe... except it was weird. Some sort of underground cafe and everything was closed. It gave an eerie feel to the place. He wondered why the man would bring him to a closed cafe.

"Why – What was tha -" but he stopped speaking seeing that the man was bending over to put on a pair of holey underwear. He blushed furiously, instead trying to focus on the man's luggage.

"Professor R J Lupin?" he asked, slightly baffled, "not -"

The man looked over at him as he was stepping into a pair of patched up trousers slightly too long for him. "Yes. Remus, please, while we're not at Hogwarts. Dumbledore has asked me to fill in for the Defence Against the Dark Arts this year," said Remus, but he looked slightly miserable about it.

Harry raised an eyebrow quizzically. Hogwarts was wonderful and he didn't know why anyone would turn his nose up at it.

Remus tried to place a smile on his face as he sighed, "I wanted the job – but I didn't know _this _would happen – and now I feel as it was some – some -" but he didn't finish.

"I feel terrible," he said instead.

Harry just blushed.

Remus looked at him seriously, his brows furrowing as if he had misunderstood something gravely important. Remus wasn't sure whether to smile or cry because Harry really had _no idea _what had just happened to him.

Harry was starting to feel oddly hot and he wasn't sure if it was due to the fact that he was studying a dead pot plant because there was a half naked man behind him or if it was something else. In all probability it was probably the former but he felt oddly calm for the situation. There was just something steadying about this Remus Lupin that he couldn't put his finger on. He supposed that was a good thing seeing that he would be teaching him at some point but he didn't know how he could stay in the same classroom without remembering his ankles behind his ears and Remus' huge -

Remus coughed and Harry blushed again furiously somehow worried that he had guessed his thoughts. He _was _looking at him kind of strange. His face felt hot but he was hoping that his face wasn't red. Remus blinked at him.

"Well, I truly am sorry that we didn't get much introduction but as you said we have to get going and I'm sure Fudge is looking for you with Sirius Black on the loose and all -"

"Who?"

This expression crossed Remus' face that confused him. He looked a mixture of sad and guilty. Remus sighed and tossed him a copy of the _Daily Prophet_.

He looked up from the paper thoroughly depressed. He was having a _really _bad week. Now there were two famous wizards that wanted to kill him and a werewolf that he had sex with and well – he didn't know what he wanted from him.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. Firm yet tentative at first as if Remus didn't want to startle him but when he opened his mouth he didn't say the stereotypical "everything's going to be all right." Harry didn't know whether to be worried or not.

"I will apparate us both to the Three Bulls. It's a hotel in Knockturn Alley and you can continue onto the Leaky Cauldron and deal with Fudge. I would come with you but seeing as I recently escaped a transformation hostel I don't think it'd be a good idea," explained Remus.

He was going to ask what a transformation hostel was when with a pop they apparated again.

He really didn't like Knockturn Alley, even when his head wasn't whirling and he didn't want to throw up. "Now I'll walk you to the corner but this is where I'll be staying," he said looking at the dilapidated hotel. Some of the windows overlooking Diagon Alley were boarded up and some of them glowed with faint coloured lights and he imagined crook-nosed witches practising dark magic in their rooms. He blinked at Remus, who seemed to be eyeing the place warily too, perhaps the brochure he received was deceiving or several years old?

"Are you _sure_?" he asked eyeing Remus, "I'm sure you could come in several minutes after me, once Fudge has..." he trailed off feeling weak.

Remus shook his head, "it's too soon. I don't want them to make a connection -"

"But no one would notice you visiting me if you stayed in the same hotel, besides this place is..." he just looked at it pointedly with a worried expression. Remus was smiling.

"I'm sure a werewolf can look after himself," he grinned, and the expression made Harry's face feel hot again.

"Yes, but for comf -"

"No, no. This place shall do just fine. I shall probably sleep for a day or too though, just to warn you. It will give you some time to... think," he finished ominously. He didn't seem to like the idea of Harry by himself or maybe it was him thinking. Either way it didn't make much sense to him. He nodded once looking uncomfortably up the path of Knockturn Alley towards the main strip. There was a couple of shady wizards walking around and Harry really didn't like the look of them. Remus took his arm and walked him in the direction he was looking. He was glad Remus was there but wondered why he subjected himself to such a place. He was shabby and his clothes were patched but he wasn't _dodgy. _As he progressed up the path it got lighter and he was extremely thankful that he was staying not far from the junction of Diagon Alley, a few shop fronts, but it was still a long way when their were wrinkly hags and sneering sorcerers skulking about. They reached the junction and he turned to say good bye to Remus. He was tired, there were great dark circles around his eyes.

When he arrived at the Leaky Cauldron the toothless old bartender's eyes widened, "Ah," he exclaimed in surprise, and he bustled off down a hallway. Harry walked in uncertainly. When the bartender Tom returned Cornelius Fudge was skittering along behind him in his pinstriped coat looking like some sort of absurd magpie. His beady eyes were fixed on him.

"Harry Potter! At last!" Fudge had almost shouted as he took his arm and ushered him along a corridor, "I am Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic," he was saying as they entered a private parlour. He was nodding as Fudge pushed him into a seat. Fudge took the seat opposite him behind a large desk and proceeded to file through some papers, look at them helplessly and drop them back to the desk looking very tired, "No less than 7 muggle attacks I daresay you picked the worst night to go missing Harry."

Harry blinked. "Missing..? Attacks?" he pondered, then his mind sparked, "Oh no, sir. See I got lost and had to spend the night in the park. Erm.. What attacks? Is it Sirius Black?"

It had been a halting reply, but it had been mostly the truth so he hoped Fudge wouldn't pick up on the lie and that the question would be enough to distract him. His plan seemed to have worked.

"So, you've heard," Fudge sounded angry with him, "No, Potter. Not only is Sirius Black on the loose but the werewolves have been running wild and you pick this night! There have been 7 muggles murdered, 2 injured and 12 turnings. Not to mention that Lebilius Faulkner, Department of Regulation and control of Magical Creatures has been attacked and turned! The Department of Magical Reversal Team have had to modify all the memories involved into thinking the deaths and injuries were results of car crashes and ..."

Fudge trailed off looking incredibly irritable and tired, "I'm not even sure this is the result of that blasted _season _of theirs or whether this is a political statement... Usually there is only a couple of turnings a year that we hear about … its as if this was planned -"

"Season?" asked Harry, blinking, thinking of Remus.

"Yes, Animals – are all on heat at the one blasted time – pack of rabid..." Fudge trailed off angrily.

He tried to not make his face react. _On heat. _Maybe that was the reason Remus had had sex with him.

"Anyway, Harry," said Fudge and stopping his thoughts, "I better get back to work. I've already arranged with Tom for you to stay in room eleven until Hogwarts resumes and I don't want you wandering off into muggle London. A re we clear?"

"Yes, sir. But what about Aunt Marge? I broke the law?"

Fudge shook his head, "ah, yes, your aunt has been punctured and her memory modified. She'll have no memory of it and you will be returning to school on September the first as planned."

He had said it all very quickly and he wasn't sure he had entirely understood it all before he was ushered out the door and shown to room eleven. He lay on his bed in room eleven quite baffled... he had blown up his aunt, broken the law, gotten away with it and lost his virginity to a werewolf all in the space of two days. Now that he was in his room alone everything that was going through his head didn't seem to be real. How could any of that stuff possibly happen to him? If it was real he didn't know how to handle the situation. How should he treat a werewolf that _attacked _him? It was kind of... Harry shook his head not wanting to think of it in that way. He felt really odd, his stomach was in knots even though he wasn't expelled. He sighed at tried to forget everything falling asleep under the light of day streaming through the windows.

Remus awoke several times throughout a two day period to strange swooshing, sloshing and cackling noises that sounded in the dead of the night- sometimes accompanied by green and red lights filtering through the floor boards. Although Remus had seen his share of dark magic it was quite unnerving to be in a vulnerable state in whilst it was going on. He was just thankful that every time he awoke he could still smell Harry's sweet smell. He was alive and surviving the change and that was all he needed to fall back asleep. He wasn't sure if the cleaner had ever knocked to clean his rooms but if they had he didn't open the door.

He looked down at his watch – he had been asleep two days! He wondered if Harry had thought he'd abandoned him? His stomach tightened. What if Harry had figured it all out and _hated _him. But before he had any more time to worry about Harry there was a knock at the door. He staggered to the door ignoring the stiffness, aches and pains that came after a transformation.

When he opened the door there was a middle aged wizard wearing midnight blue robes was standing in his doorway. "Remus Lupin?" his voice had an official quality to it.

"Yes?" he said, trying to keep the exhaustion from his voice.

"Were you at a transformation hostel in Cokeworth on the last full moon?"

"Yes," he said, no longer exhausted but apprehensive.

"Oh _really_? Wait what?" he exclaimed, he guessed that this man hadn't expected him to tell the truth.

"Yes," he repeated, "I'm sorry but – who are you?"

The man sighed, "I'm sorry," he said, "I'm Lebilius Faulkner, Werewolf Registry, Department of -"

"Ah – I'm sorry – Am I in trouble? I know this has been the first escape since the 70s but I assure you no one was hurt."

Lebilius blinked at him, "_how?" _he looked almost desperate.

Remus checked the hallway, there was a faint glow at the end of the hallway but no one was about, "Come in," he said.

He sat Lebilius down, who was looking rather nervous, and he was wondering how many close encounters with werewolves he had.. He seemed to shake himself from a kind of nervous inner brooding and begun, "Your name was on the sign up sheet at the transformation hostel in Cokeworth and I spoke with the attendant there and she confirmed that you were the werewolf who escaped. From the DNA test performed on the victims we've confirmed that you weren't the perpetrator however I myself had to come down here to ask -"

"_Sorry? _Victims?"

Lebilius' light brown eyebrows knitted together, "You haven't been reading the Daily Prophet?"

"I've been recovering. Asleep."

He riffled through his briefcase and tossed him a copy of the _Daily Prophet._

_WEREWOLF CAPTURE UNIT DISPATCHED_

_The Werewolf Capture Unit has been dispatched after a slew muggles were murdered throughout the UK. "Due to the disorganised nature of werewolves muggle DNA test kits have been used to determine the identity of the perpetrators and all of the eye witnesses memories have been modified accordingly," Fudge reassured reporters but denies claims that this full moon has seen an unprecedented spike in attacks and turnings. Werewolves are accountable for an average of 3 murders per month however this full moon has racked up a whopping total of 7 murders. If that isn't enough to make witches and wizards anxious, turnings this month have risen to an also unprecedented total of 12. Reporter Andy Smudgley has consulted with so called Werewolf Data Analysist, Brunswick Allerton, who wrote werewolf philosophical novel _Freud, Aristotle and the Darkness Within _and suspected werewolf himself says "Little is known about the sexual nature of werewolves however studies suggest that full moons of August have on average a 40% increase to turnings than all other months combined, this indicates that there may be some werewolf season in which they feel compelled to mate."Whilst Allerton seems preoccupied on animal instincts as drive for this recent spike, Head of Werewolf Register, Lebilius Faulkner suggests that these murders are the result of notorious murderer and werewolf Fenrir Greyback. Having being attacked and turned this month, he swears Greyback is on the hunt again. _

Remus looked up at Lebilius from the paper in disbelief. He looked nervous again. "I suppose you're wanting to know some things about being a werewolf then I gather?"

Lebilius nodded.


End file.
